


The Importance of a Sturdy Table

by NoahTN98



Series: Wicked Hearts of Wicked Men [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dorian Pavus, M/M, Top Cullen Rutherford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahTN98/pseuds/NoahTN98
Summary: Cullen finds great difficulty when it comes to Orlesian parties. The ball at the Winter Palace is approaching, and the only man that can help him escape the thoughts of messing everything up is Dorian.





	The Importance of a Sturdy Table

“Rest well, Inquisitor.” Dorian hears from a familiar voice, the war room door opened as the Inquisitor, Leliana, and Josephine all make their way from the room. Josephine was fussing over Trevelyan, the man had come down with a sickness in the last week but had continued working, much to the ambassador’s disapproval. Only Leliana acknowledged Dorian’s presence outside of the door when she passed, a slight nod of her head, and his in response, accompanying Josephine as she took Trevelyan back to his quarters.

Pushing himself off the wall, Dorian makes his way into the war room, watching Cullen. The man was leaning over the desk, toying with with one of his war tokens, clearly starting to get lost in thought. The ball at The Winter Palace was coming up, Cullen had been preoccupying his mind with the Fortress’ defences so he wouldn’t have to think about being at a party full of Orlesian nobles. Cullen never did like nobles, something Dorian found both amusing and adorable. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the war table, gently prying the war token from his hand. He noticed the gloves were becoming worn, perhaps Josephine had noticed, he would get a new pair soon enough. “It is far too late into the evening for you to be worrying about Orlesian parties, Cullen.”

Cullen sighs, running his hand over his face, looking up at Dorian. “I know, but I can’t help worrying. After the future you saw… What if it all goes wrong?” He turns, his hand returning to his face, sliding down it as he starts to pace, his breathing becoming heavier. “If this fails… If this fails, we’re doomed to a future of red lyrium and a life under Corypheus’ control. I would rather die first.” He says firmly, his hands clenching at his sides. “I’m afraid, Dorian. Getting the soldiers onto the grounds will be difficult, and if it fails... if Empress Celene gets assassinated... I can’t help thinking it’ll be my fault. My fault for not getting the soldiers in on time, for not spotting the obvious, for being so… So oblivious to what’s going on around me. If she dies, it’ll be my fault.” He takes a shaky breath, one that was clearly becoming short with his already heavy breaths.

“Amatus, please relax. You’re working yourself into a state again.” Dorian walks round the table to Cullen, taking the man’s hands in his own. He holds them, feeling the light tremble from withdrawal and exhaustion, rubbing the backs of them with his thumb to calm him. “I will be there with you. You’ll be fine. I assure you, if you need to step outside at any time, you can come and find me and we’ll go somewhere secluded so you can calm down. I would never just leave you to be on your own.” Dorian’s voice was soft, then his mustache tilts with a smirk. “Besides, Trevelyan has no choice but to bring me along. I’m perfect for parties, quite the attraction I would say. It would be scandalous not to take me along.”

Cullen laughs, his fingers lacing between Dorian’s, their hands moving down to hang at their sides. “Well, that is true. I have no doubt Josephine would promise the Inquisitor with showers of kisses so you would be brought along anyway.” He leans down, pressing his lips to Dorian’s for a brief moment. “It’s not like you to step foot in here, love. What brings you here?”

“I came to see you, of course. I wanted to distract you from your awfully tedious work, and maybe have you start on a… different… project.” He smirks, stepping back, sitting on the edge of the war table. He pulls Cullen to him, letting the Commander rest between his legs, smiling as gloved hands come up to cup his cheeks. He rests his hands on Cullen’s hips, fingers toying lightly at the waistband of his breeches. Cullen leans down, brushing his lips over Dorian’s, before kissing with a passion he knew would have Dorian’s stomach in knots. Dorian swipes his tongue over Cullen’s lip, humming as Cullen’s mouth invites him in, happily giving him control.

After some moments, Cullen pulls back, his cheeks flushed. He takes his hands from Dorian’s face, removing his gloves. “I never did like how these restrict me from feeling your skin.” He says softly, cupping Dorian’s face again with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over the light stubble on his jaw. “Distract me from all this work?” The request almost sounded like a beg, something to which Dorian nodded. He stood from the desk, switching their places so that Cullen was now resting against the desk. Cullen’s hands wrap around the edges of the wood, watching as slender fingers work open his breeches, diverting his gaze when Dorian reveals his lack of smalls.

“Either you planned ahead, or you forgot how to dress this morning.” Dorian teases lightly, his thumb and forefinger wrapping around Cullen’s half erect length. His tongue sits on his bottom lip, pondering whether to take the man into his mouth, the rest of his fingers joining the others as he strokes slow, careful. Once Cullen is fully and gloriously erect, he leans forwards, nestling his nose in the coarse blond curls, his tongue lapping at the base of his shaft. A hand comes down to rest in Dorian’s hair, his newly forming smirk causing his mustache to brush against Cullen’s length, eliciting a groan from the man. He moves his head back, his tongue toying with the tip of Cullen’s cock, humming at the light drizzle of pre-cum on his tongue.

“Don’t tease me, Dorian.” Cullen grumbles, tugging lightly on the man’s hair. Dorian’s gaze meets Cullen’s, eye contact kept as he takes the man into his mouth. Cullen’s breath hitches, his grip on the locks in his hand tightening. He loosens his grip almost as soon as he tightens them, instead resting his hand gently on the back of Dorian’s head, letting Dorian’s mouth work it’s magic. Almost literally. Cullen dropped his head back, deep groans resonating around the room. Dorian’s tongue was flat against the underside of his shaft, then it was wrapped around him, and then it was teasing the tip of his cock, each change leaving him breathless. Cullen watched as his cock disappeared down Dorian’s throat, a sharp tug on Dorian’s hair causing the mage to grip his hips, thrusting them forwards when he feels light static. “Fuck- Don’t do that.” He hisses, though not out of malice, and pulls the man away, forcing him to his feet.

“My apologies, dear Commander.” Dorian smirks, licking his swollen lips, his gaze travelling to Cullen’s lips. “Do you intend to have your way with me for misbehaving?”

“Oh. Definitely.” Cullen quickly pins Dorian to the table on his back, his hands deftly unbuckling the belts, pulling the straps and leather layers away from Dorian’s skin. “I think it’s ridiculous that you have to remove all of these buckles just to get your breeches off.” He says idly, putting the leather and belts aside, removing Dorian’s sleeve and setting that aside too, before tucking his arm under Dorian and rolling him onto his stomach. He tugs the man’s breeches down, letting them hang just below his knees.

Dorian moves some war tokens out of the way, looking over his shoulder at Cullen. “Don’t complain about my clothing. At least I am bare quicker than you are with your ridiculous armor. Speaking of which, remove it.” He says firmly, but chokes back a moan when he hears the small sounds of Cullen moving to his knees, and feels a wet stroke of tongue over his entrance. He drops his head down onto his arms, the reaction causing Cullen to smirk, spurring him on. Large hands grip Dorian’s ass, kneading, providing somewhat sturdy grip for Cullen while he worked his tongue. “Kaffas, Cullen…” Dorian breathes out heavily, the movement of his legs restricted by the fabric below his knees. Cullen rolls his tongue, and gropes Dorian’s ass, for several long moments, feeling the man squirm and protest underneath him.

A swift move has Cullen back on his feet, running his hand over Dorian’s lower back. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any oil with me, Dorian.” He says, working the clasps on his armor undone, removing his mantle, with the breast and backplate, spaulders, vambraces and couters and placing them to the side on the war table. Dorian’s gaze follows the armor, licking his lips, lifting his head to look over his shoulder at the man who was now removing his tunic, his breeches remaining around his ankles. “But I feel I made you suitably wet… So we should have no problems.” Cullen hums, putting his tunic with his armor, his finger moving between Dorian’s legs and pressing in carefully. “If it hurts, you know to tell me to stop.”

Dorian’s soft moans fill their area in the large room, Cullen’s fingers working him open, soft kisses and stubble grazing across his shoulders. While thoroughly annoyed that he couldn’t adjust his stance without needing to move both feet, he happily pushed himself up onto his toes, his hands sliding to the edges of the table with his fingers hooking around the edge. “Would you like me to make noise, Commander? Lady Montilyet could be back at her desk whenever Leliana stops her fussing over the Inquisitor.” His tone was a slight purr, he enjoyed being scandalous. “Or perhaps Cassandra will come through…” He cuts himself off with a whine, Cullen’s fingers removed from inside him, feeling his length rub against him.

“Be as loud as you please, Dorian. They all know we’re together, and Leliana will ensure that we are not walked in on.” Cullen hums, leaning over the man, kissing along his jaw. He takes himself in hand, lining up, and pressing into him, relishing in the noise that leaves Dorian, and the way his back arches to press his chest against the table. Fully sheathed, Cullen stands straight, his hands roaming Dorian’s back until they finally come to rest on his hips. Applying some pressure with his fingertips, fully intending to leave bruises, he starts a slow pace. The lack of slick, and the poor spittle substitute, provided little reign over how hard he was free to move at first. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

Dorian nods, knowing exactly what Cullen was saying, soft groans echoing in his throat with each thrust of the Commander’s hips. The soft slap of skin against skin sends shivers up Dorian’s spine, moving himself towards Cullen’s touch when his hand starts to roam up Dorian's side. Cullen deliberately takes a long time using his fingers to explore Dorian’s skin, feeling the tension in the muscle deplete, smiling when Dorian allows himself to relax, and lowers down to rest his feet completely on the floor, the movement restriction no longer bothering him. A noise comes from Cullen, a groan that has Dorian almost begging to be fucked harder, if only to hear more noises such as that.

Several long moments pass, Cullen bent over kissing Dorian's skin, and Dorian begs for more. Cullen is only too happy to oblige, both hands back on Dorian's hips, moving harder into him. The war table creaks slightly at the sudden increase of pace, Dorian putting all of his weight down onto it to keep himself steady, his nails clawing lightly at the wood and the map. “Oh… _Commander_ …” Dorian moans, deliberate spurring Cullen on, getting the exact reaction he wanted when Cullen’s pace staggers for a moment and he lets out a deep groan.

Dorian’s back arches when he feels a hand wandering down his spine, curling underneath him, wrapping around his length and stroking him. Dorian presses his forehead against the table, pushing back against Cullen to meet his hips, biting his lip at Cullen’s handling of his cock. He lifts his head to look back at his lover for a short moment, almost smirking at the way his face was contorted, his mouth hanging open as he pants and groans.

Both men pause as the handle on the door twitches, Dorian desperately trying not to rut into Cullen’s hand and coat it in his cum. Then there’s noise, speaking outside. ‘ _Commander Cullen left with Dorian. They might be in the library, or the tavern_.’ Then there’s footsteps walking away from the room, relief washing over both men.

Cullen resumes his pace, a sudden hard jerk of his hips enough to have Dorian reeling and twitching in his hand. He bends over, biting at the skin on Dorian’s back, then up to his throat, panting heavily against it as he gets close. “Where…?”

“Anywhere.”

Cullen smirks and pulls out, noting the whine that Dorian gives off as he does. “On your knees.” He says gently, and watches as his lover drops down, opening his mouth. He steps forward, resting the tip on Dorian’s tongue, groaning as the man closes his mouth around him and flattens his tongue against the underside. He feels one of Dorian’s hands grope his ass, more distracted by the bobbing of his head and treatment of his cock. It doesn’t take long before Cullen is spilling into Dorian’s mouth, gripping the edge of the table to keep himself up, feeling the man swallow around him.

Slowly, Dorian lets Cullen’s cock slip from his mouth, licking his lips. He looks up innocently at Cullen, and puts on a pout, lifting his hand to reveal that he already came in the midst of giving him a blow job. Cullen laughs lightly, and pulls Dorian up. “The large bath may be free. We can check, and if it is, we can bathe before we go to bed.”

“That sounds absolutely divine.” Dorian almost purrs, and steps away to loosely pull his clothes on. “We have a big day tomorrow, and I would prefer to be clean.”

“Yes, love. Anything you say, love.” Cullen teases, and follows Dorian out of the room and to the baths once he is dressed. He could worry about Orlesian parties when they have the meeting with the inner circle tomorrow. Right now, all he wanted to focus on was the man he loved. 


End file.
